Running and Finding
by Kayliem1999
Summary: It had been so long. Eight grueling months of running and hiding from…..well Natasha wasn't really sure who it was that was chasing after her. All she knew was that they would kill her if they caught her. But Clint intends to find her first. And when he does find her, what will ensue? One-shot. Rated T cause I'm paranoid. I own nothing!


**This is a one-shot. Inspired by an edit I saw on Instagram! I don't own it or the Avengers. **

It had been so long. Eight grueling months of running and hiding from…..well Natasha wasn't really sure who it was that was chasing after her. All she knew was that they would kill her if they caught her. They were enemies. Enemies of hers. Enemies of SHIELD. Enemies of Fury.

Her feet pounded against the pavement at a pace faster than she had ever set. She needed to get out of her, DC was no place to be when you were on the run. Not only was it infested with Hydra, but it was the most secured place in the nation. If she wasn't careful her face would be caught on a security camera and she's be running from law enforcement as well.

The people up on Capitol Hill hadn't taken to kindly to her walking out of the trial the way she had. If it had been up to her, she wouldn't be here at all, but there were things to be taken care of. Secret missions direct from the supposed dead director that were strictly off the books. If anyone knew about what she was doing, everyone was screwed.

Steve didn't know what she was doing, but he knew the secret she was keeping. He knew Fury was alive and that she was working for him. But when the rest of the team hounded him for information he lied to the best of his ability. It was for their own good, he told himself, if they knew the truth it would put them in more danger than they were already in.

Clint, he had been going crazy for months. Everyone had noticed his decline, but no one was actually brave enough to bring it up. Considering all that had happened, he was actually taking it pretty well. So yeah, he had started drinking so much he threw up regularly. Maybe he had taken up chain smoking, but it all dulled the pain. For a second, it let him forget that Natasha was gone and he couldn't chase after her.

Maybe the team didn't have the balls to pull him out of his spiral of self-pity, but Coulson sure as hell did. Upon hearing about the current state about his former agent, he had shown up at Avengers tower to haul his sorry ass off of the bathroom floor.

"Aren't you supposed to be dead," Clint said wiping the vomit off of his lips.

"Tahiti is a magical place," Coulson replied tossing Clint a bottle of Advil.

Coulson talked some sense into the Hawk and sent him on a Quinjet to DC. Somehow, he had managed to track down Romanoff. However he did it, he refused to tell Clint. But he did help him pack and promise to tell Clint all about what he had been doing for the last two years if he brought Natasha back.

* * *

There was someone watching her, Natasha could feel it in her bones. It was a feeling she hadn't been able to shake for a week. Whoever it was that was following her clearly wasn't a threat. If they were trying to kill her, they would've already tried to. After all, she had given them plenty of opportunities to attack her.

Natasha had a pretty good idea of who it was that was watching her, but she refused to acknowledge it. There was only one person that had this much patience and she didn't want him anywhere near this war that she was fighting. But that stupid bastard didn't know how to take a hint.

She rounded the corner into an alleyway pulling the hood of her jacket up over her head. One final opportunity and if it was who she thought it was, he wouldn't hesitate to take it.

Clint slid down the grimy brick wall landing in a puddle next to her. She took a step away from him trying to hide the fact that he had startled her. Even after all these years, he still managed to surprise her. He jumped off of a freaking roof to enter the alley because walking in was apparently just too easy for the great Hawkeye.

Clint looked thinner than he had when she last saw him. She could smell cheap booze on his breath and he looked exhausted. His stormy gray eyes overflowed with this hollowness that she hadn't seen since Bobbi died. His clothes reeked of cigarette smoke and stale liquor. It was Clint though and part of her was still happy to see him.

"What are you doing here, Clint?" Natasha demanded bitterly.

"You can't run forever, Romanoff," Clint said.

"Watch me," Natasha replied starting to turn away from him.

"Not gonna happen, Nat," Clint yelled grabbing her arm and pulling her back to face him. "You're not about to walk away from me, not after this."

In one swift movement, she had him pinned against the wall with a blade pressed to his throat. "This is my battle, Barton, not yours," she hissed through gritted teeth.

Clint pulled his arm up and knocked the knife out of her hand with his fist. It clattered to the ground next to them and hell broke loose. Natasha kicked him in the stomach and he blocked a blow aimed for his head. She flung her body in the air wrapping her thighs around his neck causing them both to drop to the ground. Clint rolled them over so he was on top of her and pressed his weight against her holding her to the ground. She might've been faster and a better fighter, but he was still stronger than her and he weighed almost twice as much as she did.

Natasha squirmed underneath him trying to push him off of her, but he didn't budge. He pinned her wrists on either side of her head and leaned down so he could see the pure hatred pooling in her emerald green eyes. "You're coming home, sweetheart," Clint whispered in her ear.

Finally, she relented. Her body went slack and her eyes softened. The glare held on her lips dropped into this frown and he might've been going crazy, but he was pretty sure that a tear slid down her cheek.

"I'm so tired," she whispered her voice soft. Her body began to shake with sobs and she turned her head away from him ashamed of the fact that she was breaking down like this.

Clint released his hold on her and pulled her body into his lap. He threaded his fingers through her fiery red curls as she cried into his chest. "I have a jet waiting outside the city to take us back to New York," Clint said. "We can go now."

Silently, Natasha nodded her head not pulling away from the familiarity of his body. Underneath the layers of beer and smoke, she could still smell him. The sweet soap he used and the hint of sweat that he had never been able to cover no matter how hard he tried. Natasha pressed into him further craving the way his body felt against hers.

* * *

They got in at about two a.m. and by then, even Tony had found his way to bed. Silently, they snuck into the building and up the elevator to their floor. When they came to her room Natasha opened the door and Clint turned to walk down the hall to his own room.

She knew it was probably a bad idea, but she ignored all of the doubts swirling through her mind. "Clint," Natasha said stopping him in his tracks.

"Yes, Tash," he asked turning back to face her.

"Um, do you want to –uh –will you stay with me?"

Smiling that half smile he always did, he followed her into the room. Natasha switched on the lamp and found her room exactly how she had left it. The bed against the back wall was unmade and there were a few articles of clothing strewn about the room. Her weapon drawer from her dresser removed from its spot and upside down on the floor spilling its contents all over her room.

Neither of them was entirely sure who initiated it, but somehow they ended up laying on her bed, lips pressed against each other roughly. The kiss was passionate and sloppy in a desperate kind of way. Gasping for air, they pulled away looking at each other. Clint pulled up the covers and she curled into him.

He reached up and turned off the lamp wrapping his arm around her body. "Goodnight, Natasha," he whispered into her ear, kissing her forehead. They both slipped into a deep and peaceful sleep uninterrupted by nightmares. When they woke up the next morning, they were still intertwined.

* * *

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